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Five Times Archie Andrews Felt Jealous (And One Time He Didn’t Mind)

Archie thought he knew what jealousy felt like as a little kid. A twist in the stomach, similar to dread. He felt jealous when other kids got to bat first in little league. He felt jealous when he saw other kids having milkshakes before dinner on school nights at Pop’s. He felt jealous when he saw his friends with happy families that included siblings and parents who never fought.

But real, sickening jealousy comes at a price. He remembered the first time he ever felt that stomach-turning sting: sitting in the student lounge, watching Jughead slip his arm around Betty. His oldest pal with his arm around his best friend. His Betty.

He supposed he deserved it. The price he had to pay. Weeks prior, he had told Betty he wasn’t good enough for her even though he loved her. He meant every word. He truly loved her; he knew that without a doubt. But he felt so messed up those days. And he couldn’t mess something as perfect as her up.

But Jughead? He clenched his fist. His two best friends dating? God, how he wanted to punch Jughead’s face. Archie still felt sure he didn’t deserve Betty, but he also felt sure that Jug didn't either. She was too good for both of them, too good for the entire world. But she seemed happy—her sweet smile a bit brighter, a skip in her step. To see her happy was enough to settle his stomach and ignore the pain. And he no longer knew where her heart lay. He smiled and pretended to be supportive. But a little part of him hoped he would be good enough for her at the end of the road . . .

II.

Archie thought he knew what jealousy felt like but once he officially started dating Betty, he felt it in a new, furious, way that he hadn’t expected. A decade passed since the moment he first witnessed Betty with another boy; he had suffered through three years of watching his two best friends in a passionate, tragic, nauseating relationship. At times, he convinced himself Jughead might be truly good for Betty. He seemed to make her happy, after all. He understood a part of Betty that confused, yet fascinated, Archie—the side obsessed with mysteries and novels. But he also saw Betty shrink and change in ways he couldn’t put his finger on. Mostly, he missed her. He missed his best friend. Once his dad died, only Betty could make him feel like home again. Betty was back-to-school grilled cheese, spilled oil on overalls, and laughter over overdue homework assignments. His Betty. The one he still didn’t feel good enough for, yet the only one who made him feel good. Jealousy grew into longing, desire, and aching. All of it led to a forbidden kiss, a song, and the end of the relationships that kept them separate.

It took a war, another round of failed relationships, and a bomb explosion for him to finally ask her to be his girlfriend. Yet, not even a week later, she rubbed his hands across the sticky table of a bar and told him the last thing he ever wanted to hear. Her boss had made unwanted advances on her the previous evening. To make matters worse, she revealed that she had previously had a fling with the same boss.

The stern look in her eyes told him she had it handled. And he knew she did. But in his mind, he thought of the girl in a pink dress in his arms as they danced across a gymnasium floor. A girl in love who hadn’t yet had his heart broken by him. A girl unshrunk and unchanged. A girl who deserved to be kept from it all—gang drama, her father’s evil, and men who saw her as something to conquer. A girl, who despite everything she’d been through, deserved to be loved, cherished, and kept from everything horrible in the world.

The jealous twist in his stomach came with violent rage. He tried to imagine Glen (even the thought of him enraged him . . . she deserved more than his greasy hair and smug face) with Betty. He tried to imagine the careless, evil, mind that thought it was okay to use her for one’s own ends. His Betty. With that awful man.

Archie imagined throwing Glen through a wall. It felt good to imagine. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t a bad idea, after all . . .

III.

Archie thought he knew what jealousy felt like when it came to seeing Jughead with Betty, but it was different now that he had officially started dating her. They had only been together a few months, but Archie could barely remember life before going to sleep to their mumbled pillowtalk. In the chaos of the town, and their lives, Betty once again was the only thing that made him feel like home.

When Betty announced she had asked Jughead to 'read her mind,' he looked at her with wild eyes. He couldn’t bear to imagine the two of them alone, holding hands, and diving into her memories. But he knew how lost she felt and he wanted her to get better. He wanted, more than anything, for her to push past the world she dug herself into full of darkness and only know light. Because he loved her, and because he knew her, he let her go.

But the evening she spent at Jughead’s, with him home alone, nearly sent him over the edge. It didn’t help that they got into a fight moments before. Betty yelling at him to be more careful, implying his journey to become invulnerable to palladium was foolish. Hearing her speak, Archie realized it was a little silly. But he wanted to be invulnerable to fight for her, no matter what. However, that notion sounded cliché, old fashioned, and controlling so he kept his mouth shut.

For an hour, he paced around the house. He made himself eat dinner from the can of soup Betty previously opened for him. He did the dishes. He organized the pantry twice. He took Bingo for a walk. But the entire time, he imagined her sitting on Jughead’s couch. Were they talking about memories? Reflecting on the past? Laughing together about how foolish they had been to ever break up?

After a while, he started to grow ill. Full body chills. Aches. A fever. Likely the palladium around his neck but he blamed Jughead. This time, jealousy was practically killing him. He laid on the couch and wallowed in his misery. His feverish brain kept playing a scene that involved Betty coming home, days later, and announcing she decided to leave him for Jughead. It felt like knives to the heart.

But after a little while, Betty opened the door and softly mumbled his name. Half-conscious, he felt her fall against his side.

Archie looked down at her, sleepy yet peaceful. He cleared his throat. “Was your . . . uh session . . . productive?”

She shrugged. “It was fine, I guess. But a pain to be with Jug for that long. All I could think about was how much I wanted to come home.” Home. Archie blushed, realizing his previous worries were in vain and wondering if Betty realized what she said. Maybe, just maybe, she thought of him as home in the way he’d always thought of her . . .

IV.

Archie thought he knew what jealousy felt like when it came to other people dating, or liking, Betty romantically but never knew what it felt like professionally. He respected Betty's job at the FBI and thought of her as a total badass. But it wasn’t until the topic of Slaughter Con arose that Archie grew jealous of Betty’s FBI colleagues who understood her career in a way that he simply did not.

Sitting across the table from Betty’s co-worker, Agent Drake, Archie felt the old queasy anger rise up again. Why did she act better than him? Why did she act like she could do a better job at protecting Betty than he could? He cupped his coffee cup firmly, giving Drake the evil eye. Nobody could protect, or fight for Betty, like he knew that he could. He decided to ignore Drake’s rude and pointed comments and pretend she didn’t exist. He enjoyed pretending she didn't exist.

But walking around Slaughter Con, Archie couldn’t escape her. Every time he looked for Betty, there she was. Following Betty, talking to her, or whispering something “work related.” She wouldn’t leave Betty—his Betty—alone. A leech, Archie thought to himself. But when he mentioned his dislike of Drake to Betty, she told him that he was overreacting.

“She’s someone I can talk to about work stuff,” Betty said shortly. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Archie felt suddenly small and madly jealous. As silly as it sounded, he wanted to understand her work stuff. He wanted to understand everything in her brain. He wanted to be the only person she could confide in.

He knew the right thing to do. He knew he needed to take a step back. He knew it was his job to support Betty, and allow her the freedom to do, and discuss, her work in the way she found best. He trusted her and he knew she could handle herself. But he secretly hoped, in his most horrible moments, that Drake would trip or step on a nail.

Archie thought he knew what jealousy felt like and he thought his jealousy was justified (most of the time). But jealousy comes in different forms. Romantic is just one. Professionally is another. One form he never expected to feel? Jealousy over Betty’s own family.

Growing up beside Betty, he knew well that the Coopers were nothing but a broken family living in a house of horrors. He knew the truth well before the rest of the town realized the Coopers weren't the perfect family. Even with his own dysfunctional parents, he never once felt jealous over the trauma that Betty carried from her home life.

But when Polly came back, he felt the familiar stomach twist. It completely surprised him. He knew he shouldn’t be jealous over Betty spending time with Polly considering the fact she loved her sister and previously thought she had lost her forever. But Betty looked so damn happy after hearing Polly had returned. The glow in her eyes made him wonder if he made her that happy, too. Did Polly make her feel more at home?

He remembered Betty mentioning Polly as a potential emotional tether. Did she ground her more than him? He knew it was a silly jealousy, one rooted in insecurity and overthinking. But he wanted to be home to her.

That night, after spending the entire day with her sister, Betty slipped into bed beside him.

“I’m glad you got to see your sister again,” Archie said quietly. Despite everything, he meant it.

Betty, eyes closed, grinned. “Me, too. But I missed you today. Maybe tomorrow she can come and spend the day here with both of us.”

“Yeah?” Archie asked, reaching to place his hand on her back underneath the covers.

“Yeah. I want my sister to really get to know the person most important to me, the person who I’ve talked to her about since I was a little kid,” Betty replied, looking happier than ever. “And see our home. The life we’ve created, different from the one we grew up in.”

Archie felt his previous jealousy deflate like a balloon. He realized, despite years of doubts and fears, he had always been her home, just as she had been his.

“I love you,” he mumbled in response, unable to say anything else.

VI.

Archie knew what jealousy felt but in those days, he didn’t mind. He wasn’t used to Betty telling someone else “I love you” more than him and he certainly wasn’t used to her kissing someone else more. He wasn’t used to her spending all her time talking about, and caring for, a human who wasn’t him.

Seeing her hold lil’ Freddie, and fall in love with the little life they made together, made him feel like home as never before. Home was grilled cheese and milkshakes because they didn’t have time to cook anything else, spilled milk and spit up on shirts and skin, and tears and laughter over the amazement of their son’s life. Their Family.

In those days, Archie had no doubt where Betty’s heart lay. Although it was split, he was okay with that. In those days, he no longer questioned her feelings about him or the place she called home. He knew where her home was because it was the same as his.

#reblog.#fics

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